ENGLISH MUM

In which I inform the school that tie shredding boy needs a break

The lettuce protest

He’s a bit of a wag is The Dude.  Not in a bad way.  Oh no, I’m far too scary a parent to allow anything like that.  I do, however, feel that we shouldn’t crush every bit of individuality and personality out of our children.  I want my children to be respectful, kind and considerate, but we do have a bit of a giggle at home, and sometimes there’s a bit of banter and the odd swear, but that’s fine by me too.  On the left, I present his recent protest at being asked to eat lettuce. He hates lettuce.

Since returning to school after half term, Charlie’s been on ‘lockdown’. This is basically because this particular school moves the kids up into their new school years after the May half term.  So Chas is now in year 11.  This year is special because it’s their GCSE year.  They wear a different coloured shirt and tie and are allowed more freedom, including the right to leave the school at lunchtime.  Unfortunately, since the now infamous ‘tie shredding incident‘, his punishment, along with his friends, was to have this freedom rescinded for two whole weeks.  It’s actually a pretty great punishment.  Allow the whole of the school year to leave the premises at lunchtime, leaving the ‘naughty’ ones behind to earn their freedom again? I get that.  I totally do.

Trouble is, the policing of this ‘lockdown’ is all wrong.  On the first day he came back looking less than happy.  I assumed it was the enforced loss of freedom and didn’t say too much.  Actions have consequences, etc and I fully support the school’s right to give punishment where it’s due.  On the second day, I actually asked what was up, and it turned out that the lockdown is being enforced by them having to report to their house office EVERY TEN MINUTES.  Yup, you read that right.  Wherever they are and whatever they’re doing, they have to walk all the way back to a specific office to report every ten minutes.

This is all wrong.  Removing a privilege if they misbehave? Totally fine.  Removing their freedom and their right to a break at lunchtime, when they’re studying hard for GCSEs and working hard in class?  Wrong.  Ten minutes is not even enough time to queue up in the canteen and eat. Had he eaten?  No.  I was fuming.

I sent one of my emails.  I kept it firm.  I expect Charlie to be allowed a proper break to go eat, drink, read a book, revise, muck about, play football… whatever. Just as you, as a teacher, are allowed one.

The reply was a bit sarky: ‘if Charlie’s that keen on revising, he can always go to the library, where the staff there will record his presence’.  Oh I didn’t like that.  I didn’t like that one bit.

My reply, I feel, was firm but fair: ‘it’s not about revision. It’s about giving the kid a break, not making him perform like a trained chimp for the entire lunch period.’

That’s me off the school Christmas list, then.

Paw teddies, cat beards, and losing an eye to an angry Ninja

My friends all find it hilarious that I live with a human-hating cat.  Our Ninja’s not a people person, bless her.  She’s never happier than when she’s gnawing on an unsuspecting human, and takes great pleasure at turning from purry to assassin by the time you’ve stroked half way down her back and realised you’ve made a big mistake.

Much hilarity, then, was caused by the photo below from The Poke.  A cute little teddy bear, drawn on a kitty’s cute little pink paw.  ’Go on’, said my friend Laura, ‘I dare you.

So I did what any self respecting angry Ninja cat owner would do, and forced my children to do it.  First up is Sam, with a very valiant attempt at the ‘paw teddy’.

Next up, Kerry found some awesome ‘cat beards‘ on buzzfeed.com.  ’Reckon Ninja will let you get close enough?’, she asked.

Nope, not a chance, so again I enlisted a willing sidekick (okay, I forced Charlie).  This time, he nearly lost an eye, but succeeded in producing a darned fine cat beard.

The result of this, though, is an incredibly angry Ninja, who doesn’t like cuddles OR posing for photos (or frankly being touched or annoyed in any way) and is now roaming the house in an angry fashion, waiting for someone to attack.

We’re all sleeping with one eye open tonight, then…

‘Er, Mum? The exam’s not today…’

God this week has been mental.  This one came with the added stress of it being Sam’s first A level exam week. Sunday was a bit frantic as he had to work (HOW do these kids do it?  Studying and revising, learning to drive, holding down a part-time job AND attempting a decent social life too?) and didn’t feel that he’d got much revision in.  The Dude was knackered after an all-nighter at a friend’s house the night before, so we’d all hit the sack pretty early.

The highlights of my week included:

Ninja attempting to eat my toe through the 13 tog duvet. Pretty painful, but a very effective alarm clock:

Being traumatised on the school run  (Sam’s now insured on my car at vast expense and regularly TERRIFIES me by driving me to school):

‘Sweetheart, you need to come in a bit towards the kerb – you’re kind of in the middle of the road’

‘I DO NOT! STOP FLAPPING!’

Call from Sam: ’erm, we got the date wrong on the calendar.  The exam is tomorrow’.  I guess all I can take from this is that 1) our calendar system is wildly inefficient and 2) thank goodness we got it wrong that way round and hadn’t missed it completely.  Honestly, how we all function I’ll never know.

Call from school: did you know that if you type a rude word into a school computer it’s automatically screenshotted and a copy taken to send to parents?  No?  Neither did The Dude.  The word was ‘dildo’ if you’re interested.  The explanation?  ’I was trying out find and replace, so I set it to find every time in my coursework that it said ‘to’ and replace it with ‘dildo’. Ohhhh.  That’s okay then.

Getting home and unloading the shopping: placing the wine in the garage fridge  (a really nice bottle of rosé that has been recommended to me – Petit Rimauresq if you must know – and that I was looking forward to sharing with the Hubby) when I realised (or more accurately smelt) that I had forgotten about the mouldy cucumber that had been languishing there since Sam’s 18th and that had leaked all into the bottom of the fridge.  As I turned to fetch a cloth I lost grip of the wine, tried to break its fall with my knee, then watched helplessly as it smashed all over the floor.  I didn’t know whether to cry over my spilt wine or my bruised knee.  Finding no carpet cleaner and, hey, as it’s only a scrappy bit in the garage, I mopped it with a bucketful of hot water to which I’d added a Bold Liquitab.  There was swearing.

Another call from school: this time involving the illicit shredding of a school tie in the house office shredder.  Innocent faces all round.

And so it goes on really…  next will be better right?  RIGHT?

The triple layer Curly Wurly chocolate mousse cake and Sam’s 18th

WHAT. A. DAY.

We started early, constructing an epic chocolate layer cake. It was loosely based on Charlie’s birthday cake, but we dispensed with the top layer and added a layer of whipped cream and a thick layer of crumbled Flakes. Oh, and of course those Curly Wurlys – painstakingly cut to size and applied by the birthday boy himself.

Here’s how to make it:

Triple Layer Curly Wurly Chocolate Mousse Cake

For the flourless chocolate cake

Line an 8” high sided loose-bottomed tin with greaseproof paper, and give it a squirt of cake-release spray for good measure if you want.  Remember you’re going to add the layers so line the sides quite high. Preheat the oven to 160/gas 3.

125g dark chocolate

60g butter

3 large free range eggs, separated

125g soft brown sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract

Melt the chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl over some hot water. As soon as the water starts to bubble, turn it off and let the butter and chocolate melt gently together.

Meanwhile, whisk the egg whites until they’re really firm.

When the butter and chocolate are melted, stir in the brown sugar, the vanilla extract and the egg yolks, then gently fold in the whisked egg whites.

Pour into the prepared cake tin and bake for about half an hour or until a knife inserted into the centre comes out clean.

Leave to cool.  It will sink as it cools.

For the chocolate mousse

You only need a thin (ish) layer of mousse. I made my first layer far too thick, so I’ve halved the quantities here.

250ml double cream

300g dark chocolate

3 eggs, separated

So just pop the double cream in a saucepan and break in the chocolate.  Put it on a low heat and as soon as the cream is warm enough to melt the chocolate, turn the heat off, continuing to stir until the chocolate is melted and the mixture is smooth.

Leave to cool a little while you whisk the egg whites. Do check that the cream/chocolate mixture is cool enough (it needs to be lukewarm otherwise it will scramble the eggs) before mixing in the egg yolk.

Then just fold in the whites, again take your time and wait until everything is a uniform colour. Pour the mousse on top of the chocolate cake layer and put in the fridge to set.

To decorate with Curly Wurlys (or any chocolate bar, frankly)

You’ll need to make up a bit of ganache ‘glue’.  I just melted about 100g of dark chocolate in a saucepan over some simmering water, then added a splosh of cream and stirred until it was thick.  Spread with a pallet knife around the edge of the cake, cut the Curly Wurlys to fit, then press them on, making sure the cut ends are at the bottom. You might need to use a half piece just to close up the last gap.  Back in the fridge again to set.

Just before serving, whip some double cream and pipe, or spoon, over the mousse.  Cover with a layer of crumbled up Flakes.

So with the cake ready and lots of booze in the fridge, it was off to Rogue Racing in Aylesbury with ten of Sam’s friends for an epic karting session.  It really is immensely good fun – noisy, hot and frantic – we had an AMAZING time and I can highly recommend it.  You end up getting so into it – my voice was hoarse from all the shouting and there were some surprise aggressive drivers (I’m looking at you Mickey and Amy!).  Here’s the birthday boy:

and here’s the gang after the karting:

Back to English Towers, then, we ordered six massive XXL pizzas and were joined by family and friends for an epic party.  The hubby made a surprise appearance (he was supposed to miss the party due to a late duty time), making us all cry, my big bro brought some amazing wine and some fabulous champagne too, the Disreputable One popped in for a drink, and we laughed, danced, drank and giggled (mostly me, that bit) until 2am, eventually leaving teenagers sleeping all over the place and heading to bed.

What a fabulous day.  And what lovely friends the boy has. This is my favourite pic of the boy, beaming, mouth full of pizza, surrounded by all his mates, and photobombed by his mate Marshy.  Happy birthday Sam xx

Turning 18: future plans (or not), driving and the all-important party

The boys with their beautiful cousin, Turtle

Today our Sam, the Mad Professor, turns 18.  I’m just not sure how I feel, to be honest.  Sure, I’m immensely proud of him: he’s a good kid: kind and funny (he makes us all cry with laughter), thoughtful, a brilliant big brother (they play American Football together and have an increasingly blended mix of friends – I love this), a caring boyfriend (his girlfriend is adorable), ridiculously disorganised (sleeps through his alarm every single morning and only serious screeching gets him out of bed), but driven when he needs to be.  He’s doing well at school (we got a letter over Easter from the sixth form team telling us how great he’s doing and how much he’s improved) and he’s holding down a part-time job as a lifeguard at the local sports centre as well as studying hard for exams.  But GOD I FEEL OLD!

He’s driving now.  Doing well in his lessons and won’t be long before he takes his test.  He’s loving his Media A level the best, but doesn’t really know what he wants to do.  Maybe go into the Navy and be a pilot like his Dad, but maybe go on to University and do a media course.  Either way is fine by me.  I just want him to be happy.

We’ve always got on well.  A neighbour recently confided how stressful it is having teenagers in the house.  I nodded agreement but honestly, honestly?  Mine are lovely 90% of the time.  Of course we fight – our most recent one was about how many teenagers he’s having over for his party on Friday night – but mostly we rub along fine.  And neither of my boys has turned into Kevin the Teenager – a blessing for which I’ll be eternally grateful.  I never was a particularly brilliant parent – especially with babies, but now they’re grown up I find it much easier.

He was the most brilliant best man at his Grandad’s wedding recently. I had SO many people come up to me, telling me that I should be proud of my boys.  I really was.  They were polite, charming, and looked pretty darned swag in their suits too.

For his birthday, he’s having a go-karting tournament with ten of his friends at a local track.  He didn’t want a present – who needs gold watches or silver tankards when you can blast around a track with all your mates for a pressie?  I totally agree.  I’m planning a surprise present too: insuring him on my car.

Afterwards, everyone’s coming back to our house for drinks and takeaway pizza.  He’s worn me down by using a stealth approach to add people to the guest list.  ’Mum, can I invite one more person to the party?’  ’Sure you can’.  Then two days later – ‘oh god, I forgot two people that I really want to be there…’ etc.  I’m not a big party person, and not fond of drunk people either, so this party doesn’t fill me with enthusiasm.  However, after a chat and a bit of compromising on both sides, I think we’ve agreed on a number that suits both of us.  He knows that his Dad will be throwing out any dodgy drunk ones, so I’m sure everything will be fine.

Just ask me again on Saturday morning.

A triple layer chocolate mousse cake for the Dude’s birthday

Triple layer chocolate mousse cake

I know I’m always complaining about being old but blimey, my youngest was 15 yesterday. The Dude is mahoosive and has turned into a handsome, kind and funny teenager who is American Football mad and a bit of a gym obsessive. We’re all immensely proud of him.

As is the tradition at English Towers, he’s been allowed to choose the birthday cakeage. Usually this means they choose the most difficult thing they possibly can and today is no exception. Flicking through my cakey Pinterest pins, the birthday boy opted for a bloody enormous triple layer chocolate mousse cake, but without the white chocolate layer. A mousse cake should be soft and melty, so I decided on a lovely soft flourless chocolate cake as a base layer, then topped with a dark chocolate mousse and then a milk chocolate one. Simples.

One word of warning: sometimes mousse takes a while to set. If you need this cake in the evening, make it in the morning or the night before. If desperation sets in, a blast in the freezer for a half hour will help it along. As you can see from mine, the top layer wasn’t quite set and started to collapse – by the time we’d lit the candles, the Maltesers were sliding down the side of the cake. No matter, we just scoffed it really quick.

For the flourless chocolate cake

This is an easy cake to make and makes a great pudding served with whipped cream. It WILL sink in the middle, but when topped with the mousses of course this doesn’t matter.

As I was trying to build up height I used a smallish (8”) high sided loose-bottomed tin, with the sides lined with cut-to-fit silicone baking sheet. Remember you’re going to add the mousse layers so line the sides quite high. Preheat the oven to 160/gas 3.

125g dark chocolate

60g butter

3 large free range eggs, separated

125g soft brown sugar

So melt the chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl over some hot water. As soon as the water starts to bubble, turn it off and let the butter and chocolate melt gently together.

Meanwhile, whisk the egg whites until they’re really firm.

When the butter and chocolate are melted, stir in the brown sugar, the vanilla extract and the egg yolks, then gently fold in the whisked egg whites.

Pour into the prepared cake tin and bake for about half an hour or until a knife inserted into the centre comes out clean.

Leave to cool.

Weighing out the chocolate

Just thought I’d slip in a pic of my new scales here – I love them. You can find them on Amazon – they’re called Epicurean by Ozeri. Rather lush aren’t they?

For the mousse layers

You only need a thin (ish) layer of mousse. I made my first layer far too thick, so I’ve halved the quantities here.

125ml double cream

150g dark chocolate

2 eggs, separated

So just pop the double cream in a saucepan and break in the chocolate. Put it on a low heat and as soon as the cream is warm enough to melt the chocolate, turn the heat off, continuing to stir until the chocolate is melted and the mixture is smooth.

Leave to cool a little while you whisk the egg whites. Do check that the cream/chocolate mixture is cool enough (it needs to be lukewarm otherwise it will scramble the eggs) before mixing in the egg yolk.

Then just fold in the whites, again take your time and wait until everything is a uniform colour. Pour the mousse on top of the chocolate cake layer and return to the fridge.

When this layer is set, make another batch of mousse with milk chocolate. Pour VERY gently over the first mousse and allow to set.

To serve, you need to be VERY careful – firstly make sure it’s properly set (ahem) and then balance it on something solid and slowly push the tin down. Decorate if you want, or just ram it into your face.

Happy birthday, Chas. We love you loads xx

Charlie with his cake

In which the enormous teenager finally gets a new bed

For some reason, although Mr English and I are no taller than 5’7 at a stretch (I think I’m slightly taller, but we always argue so we just agree that we’re both quite short), our offspring continue to grow at an alarming rate.  Sam, our very own Mad Professor, is now so tall that we recently had to buy longer trousers for all his school suits (he was starting to look a little Michael Jacksonesque), and his little single bed was beginning to look rather comical, with his huge feet dangling over the end.

Cue the rather lovely Furniture Choice, who rushed in from stage left with shiny pants over their leotard and a big red cloak (not really) like a proper superhero and offered the boy a brand spanking new bed!  His room’s not massive, so we agreed on a small double, in rather manly brown leather.  As you can imagine, he was delighted.

Delivery was arranged and we stood at the door looking confused as three or four very large boxes were carried into the garage.  We didn’t realise, of course, that the bed would have to be put together.  Still, we grabbed the tools and set to work.  There was quite a bit of swearing, and we discovered that, like with his father, we don’t work well as a team.  BUT the instructions were pretty clear and, frankly, if me and a teenager can put together a bed, then anyone can:

The small double mattress to fit the bed was delivered shortly afterwards.  They give you a time between 7am and 7pm, which is a bit vague, but it arrived pretty much first thing, so we were quite lucky.  By the time we’d unwrapped it and manhandled it onto the bed, our delightful model was knackered and declined to pose:

All in all, we found Furniture Choice lovely to deal with:  their customer service is really good – they always ring and have a chat about what day suits you for delivery, and they’re always very pleasant.  Although I do think maybe they should warn idiots like us that massive leather beds don’t come ready made…

Huge, squishy thanks to Furniture Choice for the amazing bed.  Not so many thanks for the fact that he’s even harder to shift out of it now!

The Disreputable One’s wedding: speeches, dancing and the cupcake challenge

Yesterday was my Disreputable Dad’s wedding.  It started badly, with me still running around covered in icing an hour before we were supposed to leave (I stupidly offered to make them cupcake towers) and Dad arriving to pick the boys up for the church with not one, but both boys still in their pants.

In the ensuing panic, people were jabbed with buttonhole pins, ties were tied and retied, tempers were lost, handkerchiefs were jammed into suit pockets willy nilly and everyone piled into the car still pink faced and sweary.  Luckily, by the time we all got to the church, we’d calmed down a bit.

I was really pleased with my dress from Monsoon.  AND after a bit of faffing, I went with the red lipstick in the end (this decision was not helped by my sons who, when I tried it on, cried with laughter), but actually I felt quite glamorous, although I’m not sure how people wear lipstick every day.  It’s kind of like walking around knowing you’ve got jam spread around your lips and you’re not allowed to lick it off.  Here’s a little car selfie:

The service was very nice. My niece wasn’t feeling well so I had to step in and do a reading (my reading included the term ‘brothers and sisters’ – I was tempted to do it in an evangelical style: BRUTHAS AND SISTAS!’, but decided against it) and after a small discussion about who had the ring, the Best Man did his duties admirably, even after still being up at midnight the night before swearing over his speech!

There was just a small party in the evening.  My sons monopolised the dance floor with some very odd co-ordinated dancing (even Sam’s poor girlfriend was enlisted), and later, there was a resurrection of the ‘cupcake challenge’, first seen at our very own wedding blessing a few years ago.

He’s got his mother’s gob, bless him:

The birthday with NO CAKE!

Aw I had such a fab day yesterday.  Despite their Dad’s absence the brevren rallied well – no cards (‘what, you have to buy presents AND cards?’) but they did get me a voucher for a lovely Clarins facial – will look forward to that.  Mahoosive brownie points go to Mr English for the gift of THIS little beauty:

My birthday pressie

Isn’t it beautiful?  After pressies it was off to The Akeman in Tring, Hertfordshire which is really lovely: all squishy leather, dark wood and roaring fires.  The kitchen area is open so you can see the chefs at work, and the staff were so friendly.  I had lunch with my gorgeous friend Glam C .  We had Prosecco to celebrate, plus a delicious Mediterranean salad with Halloumi, roasted vegetables, couscous and chickpeas.  Nomnomnom.  The grin on my face says it all, I feel (and look, there’s The Claw – well, I couldn’t leave it at home on my birthday now, could I?):

Birthday Prosecco

The reason for the salad (I know, right? Not like me at all) was our evening trip to a local pizza place.  We were accompanied by The Prof’s new girlfriend, who I’m proud to say is utterly lovely – very sweet and enormously good fun – we cackled like loons and, after we’d dropped her off, The Dude was heard to utter ‘wow, there is NOTHING wrong with her’.  High praise indeed.  However, it was only as we were getting out of the car that I realised I’d forgotten the cake.  Ah well.  We’ll scoff it today: think of it as unbirthday cake.

Thank you for all your birthday wishes on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.  What a perfect day.

Thorpe Park: The Crash Pad, banana theft, frozen pipes and ridin’ with Kat and Alfie

Exploring the empty park in the dark

It’s my birthday shortly (not a hint, I promise) and although I can remember sunny days, cloudy days and rainy days, I’m pretty sure it’s never snowed before at this time of year.

Yesterday we drove down to Surrey to visit Thorpe Park for the opening party for their new hotel, The Crash Pad, and to experience the new backward twist to The Swarm, their amazing winged roller coaster.  The Death Wish Dude is a coaster nut, so we took him with us as our coaster-tester, along with his friend, James.  The snow was really coming down by 6pm and as we crawled along the M25 at about 20 mph I had visions of us being snowed in and spending the night in the car.

Anyhoo, we made it, and the incredibly friendly Thorpe Park staff made us very welcome. We checked in to our Crash Pad room  and were impressed with what we saw.  Don’t, under any circumstances, expect a hotel room.  The Crash Pad is more like the Yotel in that it really is just a place to lay your head: a double bed, two single bunks, and a small en-suite wet room. That’s it. No floor space, no wandering around room, just a place to crash and go.  Oh, and a word of warning?  The top bunk has no rail.  Do not allow a restless sleeper up there – the Dude came crashing down at around 3am – luckily unhurt!

We thought it would be fab if you have to travel a long way to spend time at Thorpe Park – you can book packages which include two days’ park tickets, one night in the Crash Pad and breakfast included.  There’s also evening entertainment provided and the bar area is lovely.  A fab idea and pretty good value too.  We also thought it would be ace to book an overnight stay during one of the Fright Nights!

In the bar we bumped into Shane Richie, who we’d met at Disneyland Paris when we went for my 40th birthday (you may remember the ‘photograph of the ear‘ debacle). He’s so lovely and we all wandered around the park in a big gang.  Kat (lovely Jessie Wallace) was there too I was a bit starstruck, to be honest, but they’re so down to earth and friendly.  At one stage Shane took over the announcing on one of the rides (then ran away before getting on).

Me with lovely Shane Richie, James and the Dude.

We were lucky enough to have access to the park after closing time, and the fellas went on everything, at least twice:

Riding Nemesis

There was also the small matter of a stolen banana.  This was absolutely nothing to do with me, but these two shifty-looking characters were caught on CCTV:

Theft of giant banana

SWARM is blimmin’ amazing. Hubby and I went on once but the boys rode about five times – both backwards and forwards!

After a fabulous party, with a DJ, entertainment, nibbles and a free mojito bar, we headed to the Crash Pad.  It was really lovely and comfy (bit awkward when one of the kids isn’t yours, but then that’s our fault).  The only problem was when we woke up – no hot water due to frozen pipes.  The staff were amazing again, rushing around and getting us bottles of water, but we decided to head home and save our park tickets for another day.

This really is the perfect place for teenagers.  To be honest, it’s such good value I think I’d probably book a separate room for the teens, then let them loose around the park while we chilled and pootled about a bit more.  The food options are good at Thorpe Park and there are plenty of non-adrenaline-rush things to do too!

And yes, the banana was returned to its rightful place, unharmed.  I promise.

About Crash Pad

Two day packages start from £64pp, including breakfast (based on 4 sharing).  Click here for more info.  The Crash Pad opens 28th March 2013.

 

Can’t work out what your teenager’s on about? Center Parcs rush to your rescue.

Oh this did make me chuckle.  I love Center Parcs and they’ve just gone up about a gazillion times in my estimation by publishing this: a Dictionary of the Teenage Slanguage.  Next time your tame teenager describes something (or indeed someone) as ‘blates dench’, you won’t have to scratch your head or resort to Urban Dictionary (be REALLY careful on there, by the way), you can just refer to this handy guide.

You’re welcome.

A chocolate cake of epic proportions for the Prof’s 18th birthday

Firstly, can I just point out that GOD, I’M REALLY OLD.  My firstborn baby boy – my blue eyed, blonde haired, chatty little charmer – is 18 next month.

I won’t gush on too much, but I’m immensely proud of him.  He’s grown into a bloody lovely, slightly enormous and very gangly fella – funny, kind and still capable of squeezing the life out of his Mum with a single hug.  He has a beautiful and very sweet girlfriend and is working really hard in the sixth form.  For his birthday, we’re taking his whole gang of friends for a big go-karting tournament at Rogue Racing in Aylesbury, then it’s back to our house for drinkies and food.

If you’re a regular reader you’ll know that generally the birthday person gets to choose what kind of cake they have.  Over the last few years this has manifested itself into a ‘pick the most difficult cake that you possible can to really piss Mum off’ challenge.  There have been requests for Black Forest Gateaux, double chocolate cheesecakes and all sorts of weirdness.  This time, though, I know exactly what kind of cake I want to make him: an enormous, chocolate extravaganza the like of which you’ve never seen before.  It started when my Twitter friend Bee, who lives in Belgium and is a fabulous baker, gave me an amazingly rich and chocolatey bundt cake recipe.  I started thinking how nice it would be layered up – maybe with ganache and possibly some of Nigella’s salted caramel sauce (if you made it thick enough).  And then I saw this picture on Pinterest:

… and we all got chatting about it on Facebook and then another friend, lovely Caitriona from Wholesome Ireland (incidentally a very good read on eating well on a budget) said ‘ooh, you could use Caramel KitKats’, and our imaginations all got the better of us and soon we were all imagining chocolate cakes of ridiculous proportions covered in all manner of confectionary…

So that’s my germ of an idea – basically, as another friend noted, a tooth-aching stack of sugar requiring a mid-scoff insulin injection.  But hey, you’re only 18 once, right?  What do you think?

The Photo Gallery: Boys

One of my best buddies, the lovely Tara, runs an online photo gallery every week over at Sticky Fingers.  People from all over the world enter photos into the gallery every week to a specific theme.  This week, the theme is ‘boys’.  Well, I had to, didn’t I?

They make me laugh until I cry (at a recent parents’ evening, one of Charlie’s teachers said: ‘I love him.  I could strangle him occasionally, but I love him’), give fabulous hugs, eat vast amounts of food, use vast amounts of hot water, send me tweets that say ‘you are a poo’, make me worry about them constantly (you have to let them go…) and always, always make me proud.  They’re kind, thoughtful, frustrating, messy, always late (Sam!), weirdly nocturnal but always fabulous.

Ladies and gentlespoons, I give you: my boys (with their long-suffering Dad):

A cunning plan: the Death Wish Dude’s strategy for parents’ evening

During a recent shopping trip to find him a suit for my Disreputable Dad’s upcoming wedding (the girl in the shop was rather taken with my handsome boy and I was laughing as she practically climbed into the changing room with him), we were discussing parents’ evening, which is fast approaching.  And while he’s doing well at school, I’m under no illusion that my youngest enormous offspring is any sort of an angel.  I did ask him, somewhat nervously, what I was to expect at parents’ evening.

He’s obviously been giving it considerable thought: ‘well I’m going to skip the RE teacher completely, then start you with my biology teacher, Miss C, who hates us all… then I’m going to make sure the appointments are in the order of how well I’m doing and ending at my drama teacher Mr G, who is a legend and who absolutely loves me.  By the time he’s finished, you’ll waft out of the door and won’t even remember the others.

Then I thought we could go to Tesco and buy you some wine’.

Insuring teenagers on their first car? Maybe this ‘Smartbox’ is the answer?

So last week Sam, the Mad Prof, passed his theory test.  He had £100 worth of lessons for Christmas and is doing well, enjoying driving, and looking forward to passing his practical test and gaining his freedom.

Woah there horsey.

There’s no way, at the moment, that we can afford to buy him a car.  Hence, about four months ago, I sold my enormous V6 Mondeo and bought what we thought was a sensible car, a little VW Polo with a 1.2 engine.  Safety is a big factor in all this, so we bought the newest car that we could afford, stretching ourselves to make sure the car has a five star Euro NCAP safety rating and more airbags than you can shake a stick at.

Yesterday, then, I rang Churchill, our insurers, to ask about adding him to the insurance.  Let’s be clear here, this is MY car.  The most he’ll be doing is borrowing it occasionally and maybe driving his brother to school.  The man at Churchill was, well, useless.  There was so much ‘pffft, dunno…’, sucking of teeth and tutting that it was, indeed, quite like talking to a teenager.  He ‘couldn’t possibly’ tell me  how much the value of the car is a factor in the cost of the insurance, and he definitely couldn’t tell me how much the insurance would go down after Sam has been driving for a year.  Useless.  The bottom line, though, was that to add Sam to the insurance on my car would cost me an extra £2800 a year.  Yup, you heard me right.  This would take my insurance to £338 a month.  Not a chance I can afford that.

I took to the interwebz in search of answers.  One name which kept coming up was The Co-Operative.  Now, as a company, I like The Co-Operative.  I like their ethos and what they stand for.  There’s also a little Co-Op shop near my mum which is always reasonably priced and sells decent food too.  I emailed their press team: ‘can you tell me more about this ‘black box’ thingy I keep hearing about, please?’.

Well, no less than 30 minutes later an email pinged into my inbox: ‘of course we can, we’ll send you tons of information first thing tomorrow.  Oh, and we love your blog’.  How nice is that?

So here’s the rub.  The Co-Operative provide a ‘Smartbox’ which is fitted to the car and monitors your driving: how fast you drive, how hard you brake and take corners, etc.  It then scores your driving from 1 to 5 (5 being the best) and your insurance premiums will be discounted (up to 20%) for safe driving.

So I put in all my details and waited for the quote: £1386.68.  For the year.  That’s HALF the figure quoted by Churchill.  And it’s still fully comp, with all sorts of extra bits of cover: audio, personal effect, courtesy car etc.  And obviousy because the Smartbox is fitted, there’s your tracker, right there in the car if it gets stolen.  They’ve just released a phone app which allows you to test the Smartbox technology (sadly it doesn’t work on my Samsung) too.

My only question is: what about when I drive the car? Presumably it’s going to penalise me if I drive like a pillock too?  Can I commit to driving like a new driver again?

The yearly thank you card debacle

I’m not a harsh parent, I don’t think (well, English Dad is always telling me I’m too soft), but I do like my children to be polite.  They’re really lucky in that they have a pretty large (and slightly fragmented) family, so they get pressies from all over the place, and even if it’s just a tenner in a card, I do like them to say thanks.

Trouble is, we get later and later, and it causes more and more hassle and nagging (on my part) and annoyance (on theirs) every year.  My nephew and niece, lovely Turtle and Jackson, are a pretty good alarm system for thank you cards.  When theirs drop through the letterbox, regular as clockwork, in about mid-January, it’s my signal to go hell for leather at the ‘HAVE YOU DONE YOUR THANK YOUS YET?’ reminders, generally yelled from the bottom of the stairs in the direction of closed bedroom doors.  And so it goes on.

Them: ‘Lucky I spent my HMV vouchers before they went bust…’

Me: ’That reminds me, have you sent your thank you cards yet’

Them: ‘Sigh, I’ll do them tomorrow…’

or…

Them: ‘This is the t-shirt I got for Christmas’

Me: ‘That reminds me, have you sent your thank you cards yet?’

Them: ‘Sigh, yeah I’ll do them later..’

Frankly, it makes us all a bit stabby.

This year, we’ve negotiated a few ‘modern’ changes, including:

• If they’re friends with the present giver on Facebook, they can say thank you via Facebook message.  
• If the person who gave them a present has children for whom we buy presents and that don’t send a thank you, then they’re let off with the verbal thank you (the ‘they don’t thank us so why should we thank them?’ rule).
• If they opened the present in front of the person and said thank you PROPERLY, then we’ll accept that as enough.
• With Grandparents and those of the non-electronic variety, it HAS to be a thank you card. It must be written nicely, it must acknowledge what the present was, and it must be done, preferably, before about June.

Sigh.

Am I being old fashioned?  Is the time of the thank you card gone, along with letter writing and licking stamps?

Anyone got any tips or opinions on the matter?

Happy New Year! And another alcohol free January.

We had a such a lovely new year.  Turtle, my gorgeous niece, made the most amazing cocktails, we had a scrummy dinner cooked by my very clever sister in law (the sweet potato and chorizo was a revelation), and then Sam, Charlie, Jackson and even, hilariously, my brother IJ and I had a mad dancing competition on the Wii. A fab time. It ended with champagne and cuddles with velvet nosed doggies on squishy sofas watching the New Year fireworks on the telly. I couldn’t have been happier.

Last year at this time I vowed to be completely alcohol free in January.  I’ve got to be honest, it was tough, but I DID end January feeling amazing (and a whole 8lb lighter – without even trying!).  I also said I’d never do it again (and I got a special edition bottle of Bombay Sapphire for Christmas – sob…), but here we are again after two back to back holidays during which I overindulged in both the food AND the booze, and then Christmas and its associated gluttony.  And frankly, after my disgusting behaviour on Christmas Eve (there was singing.  And I don’t even remember going to bed), I probably owe it to my liver to give it a holiday.

If you’d like to join me – and my friends Laura, Dellers, NotSupermum and, I think Rachael (yes Rach?) – doing alcohol-free January, do let me know (or tweet me @englishmum).

Bring it on, then, 2013, I’m ready and raring to go!

Becoming James Bond: GCHQ Apprenticeships in British Intelligence

As you know, we’ve had some ups and downs regarding education.  The Mad Professor is now happily resitting the first year of his A levels, but this isn’t without some hassle, and his future is by no means certain – he wants to go into the Navy and become a pilot, like his Dad, but the armed forces are taking on less and less people these days, so other options are always good.  Imagine the shock horror, then, when we discovered you can be a REAL LIFE JAMES BOND.  Oh yes, GCHQ, the Government Communications Headquarters (a British Intelligence agency) has just announced for the first time that they’re going to be providing apprenticeships.  I know, right? Proper, paid two year courses with the finest intelligence agency in the world – getting your mitts on some of the world’s most cutting edge technology and helping to tackle counter espionage, terrorism and organised crime.  EXCITING!

This course is not just fabulous on the outside, either.  There’s proper university-delivered education, work placements and full on technical training too.  GCHQ is based at Cheltenham, but in the second year, who knows where the students will end up (it’s secret, after all).  Plus there are proper qualifications to be had: a Foundation Degree and a level 4 Diploma in IT Professional Competence.  Plus, of course, you might even get to be a real life secret agent at the end of it. Imagine the doors this would open!

Got a teenager who’d love this too? They’ll need, or be expected to gain by September 2013, three A levels (or equivalent) two of which must be at C or above in science, technology, engineering or maths related subjects.  You can find out more, and register for their open days in Manchester, London and Cheltenham, at www.careersinbritishintelligence.co.uk.

Sad news

Last week was strange and sad.

It started relatively well, but then on Wednesday, we received news that Charlie’s martial arts school was closed for the week. Charlie was disappointed: he’s mad into kickboxing and as many of you know is very proud to have received his yellow belt quite recently.

Friday, the school emailed to tell us that the reason they’d closed was because of the death of Charlie’s Sensei, or teacher, a lovely young man named Henry.  Henry was only in his early twenties.  He was a huge role model to Charlie, who often jabbered on about how cool Henry was and how he was hoping to emulate him by achieving his black belt by the time he was 21.  Without thinking, I rang Charlie, who was out with friends, and told him the bad news.  With hindsight, I should have done it in person. He was devastated.

We’re not sure what happened, but it’s a tragedy.  This young man had a huge impact on the life of my son. Kickboxing is very strict about etiquette, manners and respect.  It’s changed him in lots of ways, not just physically – he’s calmer and more confident too.

As a parent, I think we’re sometimes a bit full of our own self importance, and often forget the enormous effect other people can have on the lives of our children.  I’m so grateful to Henry for being such a fabulous role model, and frankly to everyone at the Martial Arts School for the care, attention and effort they put in with other people’s children.

Charlie will go on kickboxing, but I’m not sure it will ever be quite the same.  Rest in peace, Henry.

Berry meringue pie for Grandma’s birthday (alternatively titled: when Freddy Mercury came for dinner’)

Yesterday was MENTAL.  The mentalness started early when we woke up to find that our poor Mad Professor, Sam had had an allergic reaction overnight to the plaster on his face and now had a chin full of blisters.  This caused so much hilarity ‘stop making me laugh, you bastards… OMG my chin looks like lasagne‘ that we were all late for school.

The madness continued into the evening when we realised that we’d better tidy up in readiness for our celebration for English Grandma’s birthday.  Stinky socks were thrown into bedrooms, balloons were hastily inflated (‘not two pink ones, they look like… erm… well, y’know…‘) and bags containing humming sports kits were hurled into the garage.  We spritzed a bit of air freshener around. It was fine, honest.

My brother, IJ, is my wine guru (he is generally cursed for our regular and massive Majestic Wine bills) and brought along a delectable bottle of Aussie Shiraz: Jim Barry The Lodge Hill 2010 (highly recommended). We then ordered the biggest Chinese takeaway known to man (the woman at the takeaway nearly passed out as she took the order).  My nephew and niece, the gorgeous Jackson (who was a bit late after taking part in a Queen tribute band at his school music evening) and impossibly glamorous Turtle joined the hilarity and soon we were wrestling (well, THEY were wrestling), laughing, cracking backs (the Death Wish Dude is good at this, but it made me feel a bit faint) and generally jabbering away.

Turtle and the DWD did an impressive job of lighting about a thousand candles (luckily, Grandma wasn’t offended) and in the process managed to burn a bit of meringue and quite a lot of each other, but no matter, soon we were gathered round the table, squeezed in on random garden chairs, Sam with his lasagne chin and Freddie Mercury with his sharpie moustache, singing happy birthday.

It took a while to blow all those candles out, mind you..

Berry Meringue Pie

For the sweet shortcrust pastry, you’ll need:

200g cold butter

400g plain flour

Pinch salt

1tbsp caster sugar

1 egg

2 or 3 tbsp cold water

Firstly, preheat the oven to 180/gas 4.  It’s easiest to do this in the food processor but you can do it by hand if you’re not as lazy as me.

Chop your cold butter into squares and add it to the flour, salt and sugar.  Process it until it looks like breadcrumbs.

Now plop in the egg and pulse slowly, adding a tablespoonful or two of water until it just comes together.

Flour the work surface and squish the mixture together into a ball.  Wrap in clingfilm and let it rest in the fridge for about 20 mins.

When it’s rested, flour the work surface, and your rolling pin, and roll it out to about 5-6mm thick, then roll it onto your rolling pin and unroll over your flan dish or baking tin  (about 24cm should do it).  When it all breaks apart, swear a bit and kind of patch it together. Nobody will notice.  Push it in to the edges and trim the top.

Now to bake it blind: scrunch up a bit of greaseproof paper, then smooth it over the pastry and pour in some baking beans – you can use ceramic or whatever. I’ve got some old dried beans – for about 15 minutes.

Then, take the baking beans out and pop it back in the oven for another 5 minutes, just to crisp up the base.

For the berry curd:

Couple of handfuls of berries (fresh or frozen)

100g butter

150g caster sugar

2 eggs, plus 1 yolk (save for the meringue)

For this curd recipe, you need roughly 6 tablespoons of concentrated, sharp juice.  I had a small bag of mixed berries left over from fruit picking during the summer, but you can use lemon juice, lime juice, whatever…  For the pie to work well, the juice needs to be acidic, so if you’re using fresh, sweet fruit, add a little lemon juice. Just keep the quantities the same.

It’s easiest to extract the juice by heating the berries up in a pan.  Once they’re going squishy, let them sit in a sieve over a bowl so you can catch the juice.

Take a saucepan and bung in the butter, juice, zest (if using citrus fruits) and caster sugar.  Melt it all together slowly until the sugar is all dissolved.

Meanwhile, in a bowl, whisk the eggs and yolk until well combined.  Now, take your warm juice/butter mixture and gently pour a little bit into the egg, whisking all the time, then a bit more, then a bit more, until you’ve combined about half of it with the eggs.  Now bung that lot back into the saucepan and keep whisking and simmering until the mixture thickens.  As usual, make sure there’s someone behind you at this point shouting ‘WHISK! WHISK FASTER!’ – I’m SO going to record myself doing this so you can play it as you whisk.

Turn off the heat and leave to cool.  Remember to just stir it occasionally to keep it from getting a skin on.  When it’s about room temperature, pour it into the pastry case and pop into the fridge to cool.

For the meringue:

4 egg whites

225g caster sugar

Pinch of cream of tartar if you have it

Whisk the eggs in a very clean bowl until they form firm peaks, then keep whisking while you add the sugar, spoon by spoon, until it’s all incorporated and the meringue is thick and glossy.  Give it a pinch between your fingers – it shouldn’t feel gritty.  Now pipe (or just spoon) it all on top of the pie.

Bake in the very low oven (gas 2/150 degrees) for about 40 to 50 minutes, depending on how squelchy you like your meringue.   If it’s a Special Birthday Meringue Pie, you can decorate it (we frosted some berries in granulated sugar) and add candles.

Encouraging your teen to save (just never let him have the money)

A lovely guest post by John Lewis: living with teenagers – sharing your space

When your beautiful child has morphed into a stroppy, sullen door-slammer who refuses to wear a coat even when it’s minus two outside, you’ve hit the teenage years.  So what can you do at home – other than locking them in a room until they’re 25 – to make life a lot more bearable for both of you? Here are three ways of dealing with common strops.

“You never let me hang out with my friends!”

One of the main problems about living with independence-craving teenagers is the constant worry about where they are, who they are with and what trouble they could be getting into.  One way around this is to let them hang out with their friends in your home.  Chances are, a group of teens won’t want to sit in your living room watching Countdown with you, so think about making your teen’s bedroom more accommodating for guests by adding seating and a fold-away bed.  Or if you’ve got the space, convert your loft or spare room into a teenage den, complete with games consoles, Fatboy beanbags and a mini fridge to keep soft drinks in. Such rooms can then be repurposed when they leave, so the investment won’t go to waste.

“I don’t want to do my homework!”

If homework issues are a major source of conflict in your home, make sure that your teen has a proper work space to get down to it. Look to provide them with an appealing, grown-up area to work in by turning a quiet corner of your home into an ‘office’, complete with a desk, office chair, computer and printer.

Not only will this provide a more comfortable area for long periods of sustained study, but designating a specific area for work away from the television and other such distractions may mean that jobs are ticked-off quicker. Of course, a home study space could also come in handy for the whole family.

“You don’t know anything about me!”

It’s easy to grow apart from your teen.  Whereas you might have spent weekends and evenings with your younger child, older children may want to spend every waking moment with their friends. That’s why sitting down around your dining table at mealtimes remains an important bonding experience when you have teenagers.  Try to eat together in a place with the least distractions and perhaps make one evening every fortnight their chance to cook for the family. As well as setting them up for independent living and teaching them some basic recipes, they may even enjoy it!

Talking to teenagers – using car journeys to your advantage

There’s something about car journeys that make it easy to talk.  Whether it’s just the enforced ‘privacy’ of the situation that makes us all suddenly share or, and I think this is the case with teenagers, it’s the fact that you don’t have to look directly at each other.  I’m not sure, but I can pretty much guarantee that if something is bothering one or other of the brevren, it’ll come out in the car.  Sometimes I’ll wait until a car journey to bring up a subject that I think needs discussing, but often, it can be ‘are you ok, then?’ that will start a conversation about what’s on their mind.

And whether it’s friend problems, girlfriend issues, worries about school or life in general, it’s easy to sit, watching the world go by and accompanied by the gentle hum of the car, and chat through what’s bothering them with no distractions.  I’m never going to be a candidate for parent of the year, so I’m loathe to give advice, but here are a few things I’ve noticed:

Don’t dive in with advice

I’ve noticed that I get them to be a lot more open when I don’t offer advice.  Sometimes all they need is someone to listen, and sometimes that’s enough.

Invent a trip

Occasionally in the past, I’ve noticed one of the boys seemed a bit down, or I wanted to chat to them about a specific problem.  In this case, don’t be afraid to suggest a trip out to give you some time together.   A five minute trip into town can be all it takes to smooth an issue that’s bothering them.

Ask open questions

Sometimes that ‘everything okay?’ will get you a ‘yeah’ and nothing more, so you need to find another way round it.  Try to ask a few open questions to get a bit more information about a situation, if you go for what/when/how (try to avoid the more  judgmental why?) it’s harder for them to answer yes/no.

Don’t be judgmental

This is a tough one, but I try not to judge (even if I really, really want to – say, if it’s about a friend doing something I really disapprove of) as this tends to shut a conversation down.  I want the boys to feel that they can come to me and discuss ANYTHING, so keeping my trap shut sometimes, even though I’m screaming inside, is important.

And finally…

Don’t always expect them to share

Everybody’s entitled to a private life, and sometimes – even when something’s bothering them – they’re not inclined to share.  Maybe they’re worried about a friend but don’t want to betray a secret, or maybe they’re just having a down day but can’t put their finger on why – don’t pick away at them.  Nine times out of ten they’ll just invent something else to shut you up, so it won’t get you anywhere.  Let them know that you’re there if they need you and leave it at that.

Your Cover have been working with psychologist Dr Simon Moore from London Metropolitan University to look into why important family conversations are often easier in the car.  Click here to go to the Your Cover website and download a factsheet.

Guest post: shopping for school shoes with teenagers

Shopping for school shoes with your children is never easy, but as they become teenagers, it starts to become even harder as your fashion-conscious teen becomes keen to keep up with the latest trends.

While you are more concerned with adhering to the school’s rules and finding comfortable, sensible shoes, your child will be more interested in choosing a pair that will impress their friends rather than result in them getting laughed at.  It’s important that you both reach a compromise and you must stay patient as you explain kindly why your daughter can’t wear a pair of high-heeled, peep-toe, patent shoes to school.  The last thing you want is a row in the middle of a busy shoe shop.

As well as helping your teenager to choose suitable shoes for school, it’s also important to make sure you find a pair that fit well.  As many as 70 per cent of foot problems are thought to be caused by badly fitting shoes and many of these issues arise during childhood.  Take the time to get your child’s feet professionally measured.  Their feet will be growing all the time, so don’t just assume they will be the same size that they were last year.

Even once you have found out what size your child needs, you will still need to get them to try on each pair of shoes because every design is different.  Make sure your teen can comfortably wiggle their toes and ask them to walk around the shop to make sure that the shoes feel comfortable and don’t cause any irritation or rubbing.

If the shoe feels too tight on one foot, try a larger size – it is far healthier to have a shoe for the slightly smaller foot than one that is too tight for the bigger foot.  If you want to make sure your child’s shoes will last throughout the school year, take a look at the heels and soles.  If they appear to be very thin, it is likely that they will wear out quickly, so buy a pair with a thicker sole. Even if they are more expensive, it will save you the cost of having to buy a new pair in a few months’ time.  It is not worth risking ruining your teenager’s feet to save a few pounds by buying cheap, ill-fitting shoes and you should never give them hand me downs either.

It’s worth investing the time and money to find a good pair of shoes and even if you have to nag your teenager to wear them, they and their feet will thank you in years to come.

Guest post: look out for your kids – tips to help them protect their eyes

All kids can be distinctly blasé about their health, but teenagers can be the worst; if it’s not stopping them hanging out with friends, throwing a strop for no apparent reason (!) or playing computer games, it’s hardly worth worrying about.  This can make it quite difficult to encourage children to take preventative measures to help them stay healthy in the long run, but when it comes to their sight, these measures could be among the most beneficial things they do in their youth.  So what can parents do to encourage their children to keep their peepers happy?

Think about what they eat

Eating a balanced diet containing plenty of brightly coloured fruit and veg will provide the carotene that is needed for eye health. Antioxidants from fruits and vegetables, nuts, grains, poultry, fish and some meats are also needed to protect against cell damage from free radicals.  Perfect Wellness says that Omega-3 is an essential fatty acid that helps us to fight eye disease such as glaucoma and macular degeneration.  Omega-3 is present in oily fish such as mackerel, sardines and salmon, and in nut oils.  If parents serve these things up – fingers crossed – kids will tuck in.

If a child needs glasses, parents can make sure they get the right ones

Of course every parent wants their child to have the coolest looking frames they can, but we all know this is likely to be kids’ one and only concern.  Therefore, parents should keep in mind the lens thickness when helping children pick out their specs.  All About Vision recommends that if they need a strong lens to meet their prescription, the frame needs to be as small as possible to reduce the final thickness of the lens.

For children in their late teens, laser eye surgery could be an option. The procedure is not recommended for younger children as the eye will not have finished changing, but if an older child really doesn’t want to wear glasses, getting in touch with a laser eye specialist such as Ultralase could be a good idea.

Could kids’ computers, mobile phones, or TVs be damaging their eyes?

Parents should make sure that their child’s interaction with technology will not put undue strain on their eyes.  As discussed by Perfect Wellness, when watching TV, kids should sit at least three and a half metres from the screen, and watch in a well-lit room.  The amount of time spent playing on computer games or with a mobile phone should also be restricted to avoid eye fatigue and strain.  At the very least, the child should give his or her eyes regular breaks from looking at the screen.